


One Yellow Rose

by Malkuthe



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: LOTSA ANGST TOO, M/M, So have fun, There are more characters but those two are the only important ones, anyway, in that case the Nameless One is another important character, this is literally an AU in an AU, unless you read At the Break of Dawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkuthe/pseuds/Malkuthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could change the world for the better, would you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Yellow Rose

If you have the power to change the world for the better, would you do it? And I do mean change it for the better. No strings attached, no bad things coming from things you thought would have been good changes. Just, all-around better. Would you do it?

I’ve always liked to think that I’m the kind of person that would do it. Without reservations, questions asked, or rewards expected whatsoever. It just seems like the right thing to do. The noble thing to do. I mean, I guess I don’t know if it’s my place to decide that the world is bad enough to need changing for the better, but that’s beyond the point, isn’t it?

I’ve been through enough pain in my long life that honestly, I just don’t want to see anyone else suffer. I guess part of making the world better is making sure that some people suffer, though. Just enough so that they learn important lessons about life. Nothing stupid or extreme like childhood cancer.

At the same time, though, when I was faced with the choice to change the world for the better, I was still human. I had my own wants, my own dreams, and a person that I wanted to be for all eternity. I still have all of those, but I’ve since learned to put them aside for the greater good. Too bad I hadn’t learned yet when I was given the choice to change the world, eh?

It’s been a very, _very_ long time since I made that choice. Today, I’m perched on this slab of grey, almost-depressing stone that has my name carved on it. Most people would think a cemetery is a terrible place to hang out in, but I like it. It’s quiet and the cool autumn breeze is ruffling the feathers of the wings on my back, and the hair around my face.

Coming here, to my own ‘grave’ is something that I do every day. See, I’m dead in this new-and-supposedly-improved world. It’s part of the price I had to pay to _actually_ make this place better.

As for why I had to change the world for the better? It’s a long story, and the short version doesn’t really do it justice. Anyway, the long and short of it was: war happened.

This war wasn’t like any of the others we’d ever experienced. This was between the gods themselves. Each god from every culture ever conceived pitted in bloody battle against each other. Even their children got involved. It lasted a very long time, but when the dust finally settled, we had all royally fucked ourselves over. The earth was pretty much a desolate wasteland all over.

I lived in that world for a very long time. I watched my friends get sick and die, and it was so fucked up. I was much older than any of them, so much smaller, so much more fragile, and yet, somehow, I endured day after day while they dropped like flies around me.

I wanted to die because they were dying, but I held on for as long as I could. I held on for a year because I had someone. I held on for a year and no longer because it all ended that day that I saw him start hacking up blood.

It was honestly the last straw. I had begun to suspect that he had been keeping me alive to his own detriment. I couldn’t stop him, though. I didn’t have the heart to. I was sure it was the only thing keeping him going.

Then again, maybe I should have at least tried. If he hadn’t been keeping me relatively strong, he wouldn’t have been so pale and weak that day.

We had both gone for so long without food and water, and only our divine heritage was sustaining us through the long, dark, frigid nights. I guess our luck was bound to run out after some time.

We both knew what was going on. He was dying. As much as he tried to tell me it was okay, I couldn’t see it from his perspective. I wanted to be with him, and living alone without him, knowing that he had died because he just wanted to protect me, simply wasn’t an option.

I used everything I had left, all the strength still in my weary bones, to call out to whatever gods were left—at least those that were still listening instead of turning a deaf ear to the world, in denial that they were to blame for all the shit that had gone down.

One of them came to me. He had so many faces—I couldn’t count them. He had infinitely more names. He didn’t give a single one to me, but he insisted that I call him the Nameless One instead.

It took me a while before I could sufficiently comprehend his glory to even look at him, but I glanced at Will, just as he fell to his knees and pitched forward into the dirt, and that was all it took to strengthen my resolve.

I could still hear his breathing from where I was, but I knew that there wasn’t much time. I fell to my own knees and looked up at the Nameless One. Anything, I told him. Anything to save Will. Anything to save the world that we had so royally fucked up.

I wanted to make sure that nothing like this would ever happen again, but the thing I remember most about that day was the fucking scariest smile that I had ever seen in my entire life.

The Nameless One told me that he could offer me something that was even better than what I wanted. He told me that he could give me the power to make it so that none of this had even happened to begin with.

I didn’t even let him state his price. I agreed instantly. Stupid me. Without even thinking about what I would have to pay, I agreed. I just wanted Will to be happy and healthy, but in doing so, I had made sure that we would be apart for as long as he stayed breathing.

My mortal life was what the Nameless One wanted. I had to give it up to create this new world, and I was stupid enough to let the Nameless One take it. He stabbed me with this ceremonial dagger that was made of gold, wreathed in fire so white I couldn’t bear to look at it. I died instantly.

When I woke up I was just floating in the void. There was nothing there. Will was gone. The desolate world I had left behind, gone. The Nameless One was beside me, though, and he told me it wouldn’t make much sense to go looking, because the universe itself hadn’t even been born yet.

He told me that I could remake the world in whatever vision I see fit. I could make all the big changes that I wanted, while he would make sure that I don’t inadvertently ruin absolutely everything.

That’s my story. That’s why I’m here now. The black-haired, dark-eyed, dark-winged menace that remade the world so that war never happened. What am I doing? Why, sitting on my tomb, waiting for that golden-haired dork to come visit me again like he does every day.

He can’t see me, of course. Like I said, that was part of the deal, at least until he’s alive. If he could see me, then it would just be too easy to make him fall in love with me, but I don’t want to do that to him. Whatever the case is, I like that I can see him for these few minutes ever day. It’s all I ever get to see of him, after all.

To be honest, I don’t even know how he knew to come to this city. I put my grave somewhere in Canada, as far away from the demigods as possible, but somehow, Will still found his way to me.

I made sure he won’t have memories of our time together while he still lives. I can’t explain what’s going on, but I like to think that the love he and I shared was strong enough that some part of him, no matter how small, resisted the magic and is still in love with me.

I wouldn’t honestly know. I don’t follow him around like a creep. He’s got a life to live, and I’ve got mine. Most days I go off to explore the universe, and sometimes, I go visit some of the older gods. I visit the Nameless One most often. He’s the only friend I’ve got here, after all.

No matter where I go, though, I always find time to come back here to watch Will, and get a glimpse, even if it’s just for a few minutes, into the new life that he was living.

Here he is now, walking down the paved path, wearing that dreadful beige waistcoat. I don’t even know where he got it, or who told him he looked good in it, but believe me, if he was with me, the coat would be gone in a flash—both because it looks horrid and for other, less-than-appropriate reasons.

Most days he comes by with a yellow flower, but today I can’t see one. Some days it’s a sunflower. Some other days it’s a tulip. Buttercups. Daisies. Orchids. I don’t know where he gets them or how he knows that I like yellow flowers because they remind me of him, but he just keeps coming with them.

Every day, too, without fail, he gets angry when he realizes that the flower he left here the previous day is gone. There was this span of three weeks when he interrogated the grounds keeper every day about where his flowers were going. Of course, the poor old man didn’t have an answer.

I always take the flowers. It doesn’t make much sense to leave them there, untouched. He’s tried to set a trap to catch the ‘thief’ but I just took it when he wasn’t looking, instead. I’m sure that he suspects foul play, but then again, if he knew me in this life, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise to him.

I think there’s something different about this day, though. It’s almost as though he could remember what we had together. He looks at my grave, and I can tell there’s something in his eyes. Sadness. Longing. Confusion. I don’t think he understands why he feels these things, and I can’t help but feel bad for him now.

I can’t help but freeze in shock when he looks up and looks right at me. He locks eyes with me. That’s what it seems like, at least, but I can tell his eyes aren’t focused on mine. He still can’t see me. He shakes his head and lowers himself onto his haunches in front of my tombstone.

He traces the engraving of my name. He frowns when he looks at my birthdate—it’s about forty years in the future still. He’s asked someone about the year, but they all just tell him that it’s a mistake on the engraver’s part. When I was one of them, I never noticed how easily mortals dismiss the inexplicable as mistakes, but honestly, I’m glad for it.

It’s only then that I notice he’s with someone else. The most adorable little girl with the same blond hair and blue eyes as Will runs up to him and tugs at his coat. “Daddy!” she says, as my heart skids to a halt in my chest. “Mummy’s waiting!” she says, giggling as Will turns to face her and picks her up.

It’s been so many years since I changed the nature of this world that I’ve forgotten the biggest change that I made. Biggest from my perspective, at least. I made Will straight. I know, it’s morally questionable, but I just can’t bear the thought of seeing him with another guy that isn’t me. I guess it totally slipped my mind that he could get married to a girl and have kids.

I’ll admit. It’s stupid of me to have thought that a guy and a girl getting together wouldn’t eventually lead to some fucking and kids, but I guess I had been holding out hope that even if he was straight, he would wait for me in this life.

I’m finding it difficult not to cry, though. I thought it would be easier to see him with a woman, but in fact, just seeing him with someone else and not me hurts more than you can imagine.

My plan was always to take him back when he died, give him back his memories of our time together, take him away on a grand adventure through the stars—all of which, I had created—and just be the same happy loving couple we were before everything got so fucked up. Now, though, I’m not so sure I should do that, even if I could make sure he never remembers he ever had a wife or a little girl with her.

“Whose grave is this, Will?” says a woman who’s just come into view. She’s looking at my tombstone with a raised eyebrow and a sneer on her lips. I’m torn between slapping her and just looking away, but instead I lean forward because I want to hear what Will has to say.

“I don’t know, darling,” says Will. It hurts to hear him call her that. He looks at the tombstone again. His eyes drift up just enough to practically be looking into my own a second time, but he doesn’t react at all. I don’t think he can see me, but somehow, I still feel as though he’s watching me. “I just feel like he’s someone important to me. Someone that I should know.”

“That’s nonsense, Will,” says the woman. I don’t know her. Probably someone he met when he moved here to Canada. She pulled on his arm and was practically dragging him out of the cemetery. The bitch, I can’t help but think. “How could you even know someone who was born in 1932?” she says, probably in a much gentler voice than I actually imagine her saying.

“I-I don’t know,” says Will, looking distressed that he is being taken away from his daily little vigil by my tombstone. “I don’t know and I can’t explain it.” Will’s eyes widen as he realizes he hasn’t set down his flower just yet. “Wait,” he says, turning to his wife.

“Hey Bianca,” he says, calling to his little girl. My heart lurches in my chest. I can’t believe it. It can’t possibly by my sister in that little girl’s body. It’s simply impossible, but at the same time, I can feel that it’s true in my very bones. “Can you leave this on that tombstone over there?” he says, handing her a long cardboard box wrapped in gold twine.

The little girl—Bianca—nods in the cute way that only kids ever could, and runs over to my tombstone. My heart nearly stops again when she sets the box down and I see, through the plastic window, that today’s flower is a yellow rose.

The girl looks up and then tilts her head strangely. She gasps and almost falls back before giggling and waving at me. I almost fall off of my perch in surprise. “Daddy!” she shrieks, “There’s an angle up there!” she says, as she runs back to Will’s side.

Will frowns and looks in my direction, but he obviously sees nothing because he turns back to his daughter. “Don’t be silly,” says the woman—Bianca’s mother. “There are no such things as angels.”

Will, ever the charmer he is, crouches down so that he is eye-to-eye with his little girl. He shakes off his wife’s hand on his arm and kisses his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t listen to mummy, Bianca,” he says, “She’s just had a bad day, okay? Of course there’s an angel there. I see her too.”

“Him, daddy!” says Bianca, bubbling with all the energy of a child as she points at me. “The angel is a him!” she says. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. Can you blame me? No one in Will’s immediate life should be able to see me, if anyone at all, and yet _she_ can.

“Oh,” says Will, looking back at the tombstone and frowning. He still can’t see me. “Of course. He’s a very pretty angel. My mistake.”

“You’re silly, daddy,” says Bianca as Will picks her up. She wraps her arms around his neck and I can’t help but feel tingly all over. He’s happy. Even if he’s not with me, can I really begrudge him that? It’s all I ever really wanted anyway. I’m glad he’s happy.

Will I take him back when he finally dies, though? I’m still not sure, but what I do know is that I’ll keep coming back here until then. I hope he takes Bianca here more often, though I’m sure she’ll insist from now on since she can see me.

Just as Will is about to leave my sight, he looks back. Not at me, no, that would be ridiculous. Instead he looks at my tombstone and mouths, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” I crack a smile. Who wouldn’t?

All I’m saying is that I’m willing to wait this out. I’m willing to see what happens. See where this goes. Maybe someday Will and I can be together again, but even better, maybe someday he’ll actually come to me of his own will.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. I totally forgot to put my end notes in. Well. Anyway. I hope you liked this story. I definitely liked writing it. It was one of those bursts of inspiration that just happened. It's definitely still in an experimental writing style because I'm not used to first-person present tense, but I hope it's not terrible. :3.
> 
> Leave a kudos if you like this story, and leave me a comment if you want to make my day just a little bit brighter. :3. I would love to read your thoughts about what I've done here.


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